


Remember

by 3rdstarksistr



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7312423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdstarksistr/pseuds/3rdstarksistr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lying in bed at Winterfell, Sandor and Sansa look back over their life together, remembering where it all started and their journey to be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember

“I remember when you were just a girl. All songs in your eyes,” Sandor says, his fingers finding their way into her auburn strands.

“You hated me,” Sansa says with a smile, lighting up her deep blue eyes.

“Never hated you truly. Scared for you more like.”

“You would’ve never told me that then,” she says, breathing in and out as he can see her think on how he was then. “I remember the night you told me of your scars,” she says with a shaky breath, and he reaches out to stop a tear. “And I never told anyone.”

“I know. That’s when I made you look at me.” He looks away from her, ashamed. He’d more than gut the fucker who would dare such now. Even if he is past his prime, he still has it in him.

“You were full of anger then. Still quick to it,” she prods him, and his eyes flit back to hers, playful but also so concerned for him as he never thought he’d become accustomed to. “Sandor, it’s all in the past now. I remember how you stopped me from pushing Joffrey and likely me to my death. And I remember you saving me from the mob. I will never forget what you did for me.”

The other memory, the one when he held a knife to her throat while she sang the Mother’s hymn, that passes between them without words needed. She’s buried that for him, laid it to rest with all her love he never asked for and doesn’t deserve.

“You kept me safe,” she says, reaching a hand out to him.

“Thought you’d skin me for taking you across the Narrow Sea at the time. Arya would’ve.”

Sansa laughs, “True, but it was for the best, and I fell in love with you there in that little house. You were my first. I may have thought I loved Joffrey, but I knew with you what is real. And when you took me as yours,” Sansa pulls his arms around her then, and he gladly pulls her against his chest, kissing the top of her head.

“I could return to those days,” he says with a smirk.

Her little lips purse as she smiles, knowing full well of what he speaks but still asking, “What about them?”

“You, in my bed, living on my tourney winnings with nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one telling me what to do, except you trying to, of course,” he runs a hand down over her hip. She smiles, and he can see that maiden still in her, his little bird. He goes on, “You will always be just as pretty as you were then to me, you know that, little bird. So perfect.”

“It seems like a dream, the days we spent there. The happiest dream. But never more did it seem like a dream that never happened with what came after, when we came back, and everything pulled us apart, and we broke each other’s hearts.”

“I couldn’t see you marry someone else. Shouldn’t have left you though. Littlefinger, that bastard.”

“I didn’t realize how little you trusted me until then," she says sadly.

“I’m sorry, little bird, I do now."

“Honesty, trust, love,” Sansa says the words she holds close now.

“Aye and fucking till we’re too old to walk,” Sandor says, earning him one of her shocked looks and the tiniest of slaps on the wrist. How he can still make her blush after all this time he’ll never know.

“You got the North in the end, and I nearly killed those two you sent to find me before I read the letter.”

“I never intended to marry another man,” she says, pulling close to him.

“You’re remembering the heart tree now, the sap running red as we bound ourselves to each other.”

“You hadn’t even kissed me again until that day.”

“I didn’t believe any of it, didn’t dare. Not until I took you to bed that night." 

“I needed you so much, still do.”

He looks her clear in the eye, “You are the Warden of the North, Sansa. You wouldn’t have gotten away with this otherwise. Don’t forget that ever. Even after I’m gone.”

“Don’t speak like that.”

“You say I’m too hard on our son. That’s why. He’s got to be there for you, not just the North.”

“Remember Catya,” Sansa says, and her tears flow heavier now. 

“How could I forget our little girl? Just like you.” He wipes his thumbs over her cheeks. The two of them are lucky to have survived the winter at all. He kisses her now and holds her close as she needs when they think on their little lost daughter. He’ll curse the gods till his dying breath for taking her from them.

“I’m not happy our other girls aren’t here,” he says.

“They did want to marry, and I insisted they have a say,” she smirks, likely remembering how he tested their suitors. The lot of them not worth their salt.

“Remember the fit you had, telling me I had no business measuring these men against myself unless I wanted our daughters to marry men like me.” He snorts, that did shut him up.

She sighs, content, next to him, her eyes closing as she mumbles, “It’s good to remember, Sandor. Good to not have the worries we had then.”

“Aye, little bird, suppose so,” he says with a small smile as he tucks a fur around her. Good to have her, he thinks, pulling her closer.


End file.
